


Home Among

by Offbrand_Valk



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, F/F, F/M, Gen, Homelessness, Not Pottermore Compliant, Original Character(s), Post-Canon, Werewolf Culture, Werewolf Lavender, Won't somebody give Lavender a hug?, cast of mostly OC's from CH2 onwards, probably, references to violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-04
Updated: 2016-07-21
Packaged: 2018-07-21 14:01:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 7,801
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7390063
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Offbrand_Valk/pseuds/Offbrand_Valk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The life and times of Lavender Brown following the Battle of Hogwarts, and becoming a Werewolf by the hand of Fenrir Greyback.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Friends

**Author's Note:**

> I recently began rewatching the entire Harry Potter series in reverse order, and wanted to do something more with Lavender's character (she didn't die in the books, nothing can persuade me otherwise!).
> 
> Written in a sort of synopsis/summary format which i'm not sure works, but now I'm committed to it, so there you go.
> 
> Comments are the love of my life, and criticism is always welcome :)

 

The first night was supposedly the hardest, but to Lavender Brown the days that followed were much worse.

 

Having been admitted to St. Mungo's following the battle of Hogwarts, she was allowed to suffer her first transformation with relative dignity. Locked in an inescapable room, she let the rage of the moon consume her. Per the doctors suggestion, without the aid of wolfsbane (to make her understand the forces at play). The experience had been both utterly terrifying, and more than a little exhilarating, like riding a train off a cliff. Not that she had enjoyed coming to her senses in a room with every surface scratched to pieces.

 

Her first full moon survived without accidents, she was prescribed some wolfsbane and sent on her merry way.

 

The first month was spent at her parents house. Here she started really experiencing the effect of the curse. She could smell the neighbours dirty laundry when she was locked in her room, she had an insatiable hunger for red meat, and she had so much hair. If she shaved her legs in the morning, they would be practically furry by the evening, and she had more or less given up on ever getting her hair in a proper braid again.

 

The war was still in fresh in the mind of the public, but unfortunately people seemed to remember their children being killed by Greybacks ilk, more than their children that got bitten by them. She didn't get eggs and charms thrown at her when she walked Diagon Alley, like the members of certain families did, but post-war legislation demanded that she reveal her “condition” to all potential employers and landlords. With the war ending as quickly as it began, there were plenty of opportunities for a young, talented witch, fresh out of Hogwarts to make a name for herself in any field she might desire, that is, unless she had been attacked by a psychotic werewolf, hell-bent on spreading his disease far and wide.

 

After her second full moon, her parents had less-than-subtly asked her, if she “was sure she wouldn't rather live with some of her school friends”? Before nightfall she had moved to Dean and Seamus flat, however she quickly sensed she was driving a wedge between the 2, and by the end of the week she hit the road. The next place she tried was the Patil residence, where she lived until the twins moved out 5 weeks later. Parvati and Padma had elected to get separate apartments, and Lavender wasn't quite desperate enough to ask to stay with either of them.

 

Instead she got a job washing dishes, tables, and floors at a little inn, in Knockturn Alley called “The Mottled Boggart”. The owner, an elderly man named Josephius Prewett, had lost a brother and a niece to werewolves, and was more than happy to help another victim of the curse. The pay was lousy, and the hours were long, but she got a room to herself, and she was far from the shadiest character in the floors of “The Mottled Boggart”. Then they began getting their windows broken at night, Josephius tried to play it off, and the Aurors swore to catch the people doing it. But one night, a bit too close to the night of the full moon, the rock throwers refused to leave when the inn's residents woke up. Before she knew, Knockturn Alley exploded as everything from squibs to Death Eathers came crawling out the woodworks. The Aurors arrived, and the fighting continued until the first light of dawn. By the end of it Mr. Prewett was admitted to St. Mungo's, 17 people were detained pending further investigation, and Lavender Brown was homeless once more.

 

Her next idea was to ask Hermione Granger for help, sure their friendship had been troubled at the best of times, but Gryffindors were supposed to count on each other in times of need. Hermione got her in contact with Harry Potter himself, who had no problems opening his house at 12th Grimmauld Place, to a homeless werewolf. The old Black family residence never truly became Lavender's home, there were just too many people coming through she couldn't relate to, though not for a lack of trying by all parties involved. One good thing that did come out of her time at 12th Grimmauld Place, was meeting Fleur and William Weasley.

 

The pair was so compassionate, and so understanding. Even when she lived in Shell Cottage, she could never truly forget her curse, but most days she came close. Fleur helped tame the hair and cover the bite mark with make-up. While Bill thought her to channel her rage into something productive (she doubted Shell Cottage would lack firewood for years to come). Lavender still had no luck finding work for more than a few days at a time, so instead she got busy cleaning the house, and occasionally trying to cook when the masters of the house came home late. By that point the werewolf had made a habit of trying not to get too attached, it still hurt as hell having to leave them. But when Fleur and Bill started talking about children, she knew it had to be done. Lavender knew the married couple would never ask her to leave, but she had always had a suspicion it was too good to last, and she couldn't live with herself, if an innocent child got caught in her rampage.

 

McGonnagal let her stay until the end of the Christmas vacation at Hogwarts. Then she spent a week at the rebuild Burrow, then another with Andromeda Tonks and young Teddy Lupin. She kept going like that until she eventually just… Ran out of places to go. With nowhere left, Lavender swallowed her pride, and accepted her lot in life was living on the streets of London.

 


	2. Muggles

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we go again, chapter 2 ready, and chapter 3 well under way. If all goes according to plan (and it never, ever, does) I'm hoping to have the whole shebang finished by the end of next week.
> 
> Hope y'all enjoy

 

Living on the streets was by far the lowest point in Lavender's young life. She had a warm coat, looked enough like a bloodthirsty werewolf to avoid harassment, and always managed to scratch enough money together for the wolfsbane come the full moon, so life could definitely get worse (even if she had to eat a few more rats than she would have preferred). This was however a fact that she tried not to think too hard about.

 

Her old Gryffindor scarf, was her single most important property. Living as a beggar, she found that money for a sad victim of the war, always came a bit easier when people knew she had stared Voldemort in the face, not joined his forces.

 

She thoroughly regretted not having taken “muggle studies”. On a hunch, the 8 months old werewolf, had decided to try and expand her “hunting grounds” to muggle-London. Though she did occasionally make a fool out of herself, it turned out to be a good idea. She didn't know if money was less tight for the muggles, or if food was just worth less to them, but she found her appetite more sated when her meal was paid with pounds rather than sickles. Except of course, whenever the daily prophet brought a sob story, about an ex Hogwarts student committing suicide or freezing to death or whatever, then she ate like a queen.

 

Another boon of learning to “speak muggle”, was that she had twice as many homeless shelters to try her luck with when nightfall drew near. It wasn't that she actively tried to avoid talking to other homeless, but since everyone was as miserable as herself, forming bonds would only remind her of what she had lost. When muggles asked about her disease, she would answer vaguely, and try to change the subject. After a while, she heard about HIV and AIDS, she couldn't wrap her head around all the details, but she understood that it was a slow killer, and getting it was a source of shame, which she found appropriate for an excuse.

 

It was in one of these shelters she met Stephanie Winters. Steph was the squib daughter of some very old fashioned parents, both her older and younger brother had gotten into Hogwarts, while she was forced to fend for herself at a boarding school in the West Country. Miss Winters hadn't forgotten her origin, though her origin had certainly forgotten about her. She played the part of an ordinary muggle to perfection, 9 to 5, Monday through Friday, gym after work Tuesday and Thursday, and 2 drinks with co-workers on Fridays. The only way she even came close to breaking the mould was volunteering at a homeless shelter a couple of times a month. Steph recognized the Gryffindor scarf on their first meeting, but it took a couple of weeks curious prodding before she was sure Lavender was a witch.

 

With time, Stephanie Winters and Lavender Brown developed a friendship. Every Wednesday after work, Stephanie would buy 2 large coffees and some pastry to go with them. Then she would meet Lavender near the guest entrance to the Ministry, they would find a bench out of the way, and complain about their lives together. Stephanie was embarrassed to admit she was slowly developing feelings for the younger woman, even disregarding the 4 year age difference, she had a home and steady income, there was no way making a pass at her, wouldn't constitute abuse of power.

 

One Wednesday evening, as the first winter snow was falling, Stephanie gave Lavender the best news she had heard in a year. Stephanie wanted the werewolf to move into her apartment, in an attempt to get her back on her feet.

 

Having a permanent home for her duffle bag felt great. It took hours in the shower to get the dirt and grime of the gutter out, but afterwards she had never felt better. She celebrated by cleaning Stephanie's apartment from top to bottom, repairing the broken cupboards, and even got the floorboards to stop squeaking with the help of her wand.

 

A few weeks later she got her first job as a “muggle” with Stephanie's help. It was in a warehouse down by the docks, and amounted to little more than lifting boxes around and writing numbers on clipboards. She obviously couldn't use magic on the job, but what she lacked from malnutrition, she made up for in werewolf strength. The co-workers were nice too, even if most of them were twice her age. All of them wanted to let bygones be bygones, and instead complain about how “this whole damn country is falling apart”.

 

For a while, life was good. Really good. So good Lavender forgot it wouldn’t last.

 

They were arguing, like friends do, the full moon was still 22 hours away. Steph was angry about Lavender’s habit of leaving her work clothes lying on the floor. Lavender was irritable, her skin felt itchy and too tight. She tried to explain to Stephanie that she needed some fresh air, but it came out all wrong, and all she managed was angry sneering. She tried making her way to the door, but her friend blocked the way. There was more yelling, and then Lavender shoved her into a coat rack. Stephanie was crying and couldn't move her arm, 20 minutes later an ambulance took her to the hospital.

 

When Stephanie Winters came home, she found the coat rack repaired, the dishes washed, and all of Lavenders belongings missing. She also found her spare key pushed through the hole in her mailbox.


	3. Wolves

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Keeping a good pace it seems, this is the part where the OC's really start flooding in, i really hope they're not too intrusive, otherwise please do complain, and i'll cut down on it, in future chapters.

Lavender was beginning to understand why most werewolf stuck to the woods. She had made her “home” about a 2 days walk West-Northwest of New Castle, under a willow tree, in a forest whose name she never learned.

 

Her “home” consisted of a tarpaulin held out between 2 trees with plastic strips and duct tape. Originally she had gotten another as a “carpet”, but all it did was keep the rain water in and attempt to fly off, so now it was stashed in her duffle bag until it was needed. On her way north, she had come through a small fishing village late at night, and stolen a discarded net. It reeked of saltwater, but it allowed her to keep her food up high and away from critters. For interior decorating she had her mud stained sleeping bag, duffle bag containing the bare essentials, and a few shoddy concealment charms.

 

The only thing even close to civilisation near her hollow, was the muggle village of Summouth. Population: 127 people, and about twice as many chickens. Summouth could be summed up with one word: retired, the village’s median age seemed to be upwards of 65, and the only reason it wasn't higher was the steady influx of grandchildren visiting. The only businesses in town, were a small chain grocery store who didn't lock the back door, a bakery who occasionally gave her leftovers, and a carpenter who got maybe 1 commission a week.

 

She tried not to steal too much, no reason to ruin a good thing by getting greedy. Besides she could get most of her vital nutrients from scavenging fruits, berries, and the occasional slow rabbit.

 

Wolfsbane was a half forgotten memory. When she felt the pale moon’spresence creep nearer, she would strip down to the bare minimum of modesty, and move deeper into the forest. In the heart of the forest she would let her instincts take control, happy with passively riding the fury until she knew her senses once more. It usually took her a couple of days from start to finish to let the fur grow out, enjoy the fur, shed the fur, and come back to reality. Those days she was never hungry, she tried to steer clear of people, and never managed to inflict more than nightmares and torn shirts. Other than that, anything was fair game. Foxes were her favourite, most of the time she didn't even bother tearing the flesh from the bone, and just savoured the extra crunch and taste of marrow, on the night of the full moon she could swallow them whole. Deer was great too, all that meat meant she would be sorted even after the moon had waned.

 

It was during one of these night of waning moon, she first met another friendly werewolf. For the first few months Lavender didn't even know her name. They met as wolves, hunted together, ate together, and wrestled like puppies, then went their separate ways. Until one morning she woke up from her frenzy, next to a brunette with hair reaching to her buttocks, and cheekbones to die for. “Bonjour, I’m Lucia Garou, how do you do?”

 

Lu' and her didn't exactly live together, they were both too much loners for that. They would howl to the moon together, occasionally share their meals, and with time, the cold nights. At first Lavender didn't think it was love, to be honest it wasn't something she had a great deal of experience with. The last time she had felt love, it had been consuming, to the exclusion of everything else, any moment she was awake she wanted to spend with the one she loved, and remind them how much she loved them. With Luciait felt more like belonging, like owning and being owned at the same time. There was passion yes, but the passion was a symptom of the greater whole, a very loud and prominent symptom.

 

Lucia Garou had gone to Beauxbaton, and graduated one year before Lavender. She was bitten during the christmas of her 5th year, when a pack of werewolf had broken into her parents manor. Her father had been furious, and had them all hunted down and flayed, but was ultimately unable to accept his daughters condition. With the dark lords return, she had been forced to join Greyback's pack for protection. Later with the death of Fenrir Greyback, his pack was now known as Halftooth's pack, since his wife Vargia had taken the role of alpha. Vargia Halftooth had let Lu’ run off on her own, under the conditions that she wouldn't join any other packs, and would answer should she called to aid the pack.

 

As satisfied as Lavender was with her life alonw, her curiosity was greater still. She had never had the chance, nor really the desire to interact with werewolf society, what little of it there were, until then. According to Lu', Halftooth was of a more benevolent sort than her husband, interested in, if not making peace, then at least amends with the wizarding world. That had piqued Lavender's interest, and after a week of incessant begging, the pair snuckon a train further north.

 

Halftooth's pack had built a camp not unlike her own outside of Summouth, thoug further from civilisation, and a fair bit larger being home to some 20 werewolves. Lucia was greeted with as much warmth as Vargia could manage, which is to say, a neutral “welcome back”. It took the alpha with the dislocated jaw a few days of scrutiny before she felt comfortable letting the blonde Gryffindor become one of her own.

 

To say Vargia was motherly would be a bold faced lie. She cared for her pack true, but like a drill sergeant cared for their recruits, or a school matron for her students. At first Lavender thought her alpha didn't like her much, but she quickly realized that sneered insults were simply Halftooth's way of showing approval. Lavender's compassionate nature, and (quote) “ability to rub 2 braincells together with relative frequency”, quickly earned her a place as one of the alphas favourites. Though this annoyed several older members of the pack who had seen the rise and fall of Greyback, the one time someone voiced their concern, Vargia had personally torn out his throat with her teeth. The tall veteran of 2 wars never claimed to be fair, she claimed to be right

 

Lucia was not cut out for communal living, and when she realized her girlfriend was, they had to make a painful compromise. Lavender would stay with the pack, while Lucia would move south again. Not as far as last time, just enough that she could live on her own while still being able to run into Lavender once in a while. In a fit of romanticism, Lavender decided they would spend every full moon together, but other than that, their meetings were mostly sporadic. Though it was charming how many excuses Lavender managed to find to make the disowned Garou heir presents, it was only just skirting the edge of being smothering.


	4. Intermission

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So yeah, i'm a fair bit behind on updates, but i accidentally began playing dark souls again, and my muse didn't feel like cooperating so here we are. To try and get my inspiration back i wrote a short intermission not really related to anything in the main story, though i guess it sorta show cases Lavender's development. 
> 
> On the bright side, i've killed Aldrich bane of Husbandus

The year was 2006, Burkina Faso had just defeated France in the quidditch world cup, and a very scared Felix North was trying to find his way home to his tent.

 

He was all too aware he was being followed. He had gotten into an argument with Marcus Parkinson from Slytherin. In and off itself not a strange occurrence, considering the Parkinsons view on halfbloods, however this time, Marcus had 2 older sibling, and 3 cousins to back him up. The tents with light in them were getting further and further apart, but nothing was looking more recognizable. He felt the spell knocking him to his feet, then heard a coarse, but distinctively feminine voice.

 

“Oi! Inbreds! Don't you have better things to do?” 2 women stood facing down the gang of Parkinsons. The one who had yelled was wearing a men's coat made of black wool, and had her blonde hair in a French braid that was falling apart at the seams. The other woman had incredibly long, uncombed, toffee coloured hair, and was wearing a travelling robe that might once have been elegant. Their predatory stance, ragged clothes, and slightly manic eyes, all seemed to proudly warn the world of their werewolf nature.

 

“And what is it to you Mutts?!” A broad shouldered brunette asked from the front of the Parkinson group. Wands were raised, but no spells were cast, as the 2 parties stared each other down, and Felix sat frozen in terror on the cold, muddy ground. Slowly the 2 werewolves inched around to stand between the purebloods and the halfblood.

 

There was a flash of light, and a blood-curdling scream. The blonde fell to the ground, but hurried back up while her friend leapt straight at the Parkinson brunette, knocking her down and began clawing at her face. Her cousins hurried to get the mad werewolf off her, but at that point it was too late, a vicious howl came from both the werewolves throat. Like a wildfire the howl echoed throughout the sea of tents.

 

Seconds later a scrawny wizard of indeterminable age came crashing out of a nearby tent wielding a wand in one hand and a enormous knife in the other. The scrawny wizard was quickly followed, by a practically naked mountain of a wizard. Next came a witch with caramel skin and a missing arm, then a slender wizard barely older than Felix himself. More and more werewolves joined the fight, while tents were catching fire, and Marcus older brother almost got decapitated by the skinny wolf with the knife.

 

“Enough!” A voice thundered through the madness, with such authority and fury, Felix almost expected headmistress McGonnagal to be marching towards them. Instead the voice belonged to a rough hewn woman. Wild, curly, brown hair with a few white streak, accentuated a brutalized jawbone with an almost military grace. The werewolves all moved off the Parkinson gang, still snarling and ready to pounce at a moments notice. The woman sent a penetrating glare at Felix's would be attackers. “Shoo! Scram!” She spat at them while waving her wand, like she was telling off a bunch of unruly children. It only took a moments for the words to register before the purebloods ran for the hills.

 

The alpha surveyed the scene for a moment. “Lavender! If you're not too busy picking wedding dresses, would you care to tell me why you picked a fight with a bunch of inbreds?” The blonde, whose french braid had now utterly dissolved, stopped inspecting her partners wounded knee, and hurried to answer her leaders question. “They wanted to jump on that kid over there. Figured we'd remind them who won the war, before they start shouting about Voldemort and valor.” The older woman snorted in satisfaction, then turned her analytical gaze on Felix. “And what are you doing alone, late at night, near a quidditch field kid?” She asked with a neutral tone while she helped him to his feet. “I, I got lost.” He stuttered as a response. “That was pretty dumb wasn't it?” There was not a hint of sympathy or mockery in her voice, she was merely stating a fact. “Yes ma'am.” She “gently” smacked the back of his head. “Don't ma'am me. It makes me feel old.”

 

A few minutes later, just as the last tents were being extinguished, and Felix had gotten his bearings, a group of thoroughly distressed aurors came running. “What the bloody hell happened here?!” Halftooth walked over to the leader of the group, clearly in no hurry, and with a nonchalant voice answered. “Couple of purebloods wanted to start something they couldn’t finish, we gave them a piece of our mind. The problem is fixed, though this 5th year Hufflepuff is still looking for his mum.” She flashed her pointed teeth, as she gestured to Felix.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's to hoping i can get back on schedule.


	5. The Pack

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 2 chapters in 1 day, seems we're back on track (wooh). I took a lotta creative liberties with how werewolf society works in the HP universe, mostly because I couldn't find anything very detailed in the books/internet, hope it's not too terrible.
> 
> TBH i don't actually know if anyone's actually still following, but well, I enjoy writing it, so... eh.

Over the last few years Halftooths pack had grown significantly. What had after the war been 2 widows and a few young huddled together for warmth, was now a pack almost 50 wolves high, twice the size of any other single pack.

 

Lavender could understand why, times were always growing tougher when polite society considered you a servant of darkness. What was left of the old guard, had managed to rile up a lot of the new generation, and many were planning for war. The other packs looked to Vargia Halftooth to lead the fight, she was a veteran of 2 wars, she knew how to lead, and she had a lot of wolves in her back, but she refused. Every time a meeting was called, she would laugh heartily, as if the very notion was absurd. “The problem with the proposition, is that most of you seem to labour under the misunderstanding that there would ever be a war. That we wouldn't simply be put down like rabid dogs one and all. We tried that gamble twice before, both times we failed.” The weary alpha explained in front of every werewolf in Europe.

 

Just because there wouldn't be a war, didn't mean they weren't preparing. Halftooth had taught Lavender to live by the words: “hope for the best, expect the worst”. Being one of Vargia's favorite, she had been insistently encouraged to start brushing up on her martial skills. She, along with a rather well-proportioned Dutchman who seemed to despise clothes named Wolfgang, and a begrudging Lu', were being trained by someone called “Twink”. Twink didn't talk much about himself, from what Lavender could gather, he had been the runt of the litter when he was bitten, and had spent a large part of his life, being punching bag and what's worse for bigger and meaner werewolves. After god knows how long in the school of hard knocks, Twink had learned to give as well as he could get, and had become the manic brawn, to Vargia's catty brain.

 

After she had begun training with Twink, and rumour got out that she had been bitten by Greyback, a lot of packs took an interest in her, a few people even suggested she form her own. Of course Lavender didn't take anyone up on their offers, she knew where her loyalties, and even if she didn't, she had no interest in facing off against her old schoolmates.

 

The ministry wasn't blind, after enough grumbling and half-hearted threats, they sent a representative. The representative was no one less than Hermione Granger, hero of the second wizarding war. Granger was smart, and could keep her head cool when things got heated, but she lacked the force of personality to make a bunch of overgrown adolescents, who struggled to focus long enough to form a coherent sentence pay attention to her. A few of the younger werewolves, led by an alpha named Luno, had wanted to “rustle her feathers”, no serious injuries came off it, though Luno would probably be able to show the bruise Halftooth gave him to his grandchildren.

 

However the attack had done what it set out to, and the ministry was now much less willing to meet the werewolves on neutral ground. As a response, Vargia had let the ministry prosecute Luno and his accomplishes, which earned her a lot of bad faith among her own. She therefore declared that she and her pack would remain neutral, taking no action for or against the ministry, until an agreement had been reached.

 

Because of Halftooth's neutrality, Lu and Lavender found themselves reduced to glorified owls between the ministry and the werewolves. It was tearing on their relationship, Lu hated having other people rely on her, almost as much as she hated having to rely on other people. Life on the road was nothing new to either of them, in fact it was a welcome change from the tense atmosphere of their camp. No, what really tired them out, was the utter density of their “kinsmen’s” skulls, not to mention the slowness at which the ministry processed new information. With no one else to turn to, they pointed their anger at each other. Their once carefree friendship became silent, and love became little more than a habit.

 

As tensions rose, less savoury parts tried once again to recruit Lavender to their cause. By now, war was mostly off the table, all the conspiratorial elements either beaten into submission, or calmed down by a very grand and public memorial to the heroic efforts of one Remus Lupin. Still a few werewolves felt that it would be helpful, if a few key anti-werewolf individuals, were violently persuaded to step out of the debate. Lavender feigned interest long enough for that oaf Ulfrik Greyback to spill his great big plan, dates and all. She and Lucia immediately went to Halftooth to discuss the best course of action, her answer was not what they had hoped.

 

Vargia considered warning the ministry of the attacks a breach of their neutrality, Lavender disagreed but she accepted her alpha's decision. Atleast she claimed to.

 

Lavender probably owed Granger more than a few favours from her time at Hogwarts, and even if she didn't, telling her was still the right thing to do. Hermione was shocked by the information, she believed Lavender words, but was shocked. So when the next full moon came around, and the werewolves came barrelling through Diagon Alley, they found themselves faced with every auror from Brighton to Inverness, not to mention a few werewolves on wolfsbane.

 

Halftooth was furious, yes peace had been accomplished, but not in the manner she had planned. Had the attack succeeded, she would have been able to in good conscious side with the ministry, and begin outing her enemies, as enemies of the ministry. A bit of violence would have been an acceptable loss to ensure werewolf society would have a unified and lawful front. The ministry would have been in full support of her as the central authority, after all she was on their side, and had done everything in her power to ensure a peaceful resolution. Now she wasn't needed.

 

Upon hearing of her plan, Lavender decided it was time to move on, Vargia begrudgingly agreed. Lu' didn't come along, they would rather leave with what little friendship they had left instead of risk tearing it apart completely.


	6. Ruins

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You know what? I'm just gonna stop talking about my posting schedule in the authors note, i'm clearly only managing to jinx it.
> 
> ps. guess which horrendously underappreciated blonde makes an appearance?

By now homelessness was more or less a familiar experience for Lavender Brown.

 

She had initially wanted to find herself a nice quiet clearing, to throw down her tarpaulin in. But by now she was a known face in the much too close-knit werewolf community, so it would only be a matter of time before someone found her den. Her life had gotten to a point where she couldn't be bothered to pay attention to her kinsmen's harassment, even if some of it was supposedly in support of her action. The ex-Halftooth had come to realize she was more “civilized” than most of her compatriots, and after what could have been anything from a few days, to several months of train-hopping, she made a home for herself in an abandoned building at the edge of a quaint little south-England town.

 

Her new home had once been the office of a local radio station, it had a surprisingly well equipped tea kitchen, and the muggle kids all thought it was haunted. The town was named “Little Whinging”, and was about as welcoming to homeless people, as the Black family was to muggleborns. Most days she would sleep through the morning, spent a few hours idly shuffling about town (maybe read a book on a swing-set), before sneaking unto a train to London to beg, borrow, and steal what she happened to need at the time.

 

Over time she had picked up the bad habit of hanging out at the playground, staring off into space, while nannies and stay-at-home moms glared daggers at her. From the crowd of children and annoyed caretakers one stood out, a girl probably 9 or 10 years old, and with very little control of her magic. The werewolf didn't want to interfere, she figured Hogwarts was just waiting for the right moment to break the news to the family, but she considered it her civic duty to clean up after the girl's mishaps.

 

The girl’s name was Melinda O'Harrah, which made Lavender think her parents didn't like her very much. Though Lavender wouldn't know for sure, talking to kids would probably result in her being run out of town, pitchforks and all. It seemed like almost every second day, Melinda would manage some sort of magical oddity near the playground. If she had to guess, the kid didn't much enjoy lounging around on her own, and the playground only reminded her of her loneliness. One of the O'Harrah's would generally pick her up somewhere between 17 and half past, but from school let out, until they came, she was left to her own devices. Lavender was content just checking up on the girl from a distance, casting the occasional “finite incantatem” when she managed to turn all the sand in the sandbox into spiders or something of the sort.

 

However, temper tantrums and wild magic was a dangerous combination. The Hogwarts alumna never did learn what had started it, she only saw the flaming tendril snaking around the horizon and stormed into action. It was a mess, but Lavender managed to keep the family safe, until the aurors showed up to begin throwing memory charms around. It seemed that the ministry now owed her 2 favours and were willing to add a 3rd to the list.

 

The ministry deemed the O'Harrah family “not quite ready for the wizarding world just yet”, and as was standard procedure, the family was assigned a warden without their knowledge. Since ms. Brown already had experience working with the family, she was given the job under the condition that she in turn was assigned a supervisor to oversee her work. Lavender didn't mind (much), her day to day life didn't change in any noteworthy fashion, and the extra sickles a month meant a worlds difference to her standard of living. Her supervisor did take some getting used to. Being a pureblood herself, she knew the Malfoy family by reputation, though they didn't have any sort of clear relationship to the Browns. Apparently Narcissa had a great big change of heart after the battle for Hogwarts, and was now teaching potions at the aforementioned school, to purebloods and muggleborns alike... Oh and she had also been asked to supervise the werewolf in her newest odd job.

 

Lavender was almost sad when the day came where she had to take Melinda to Diagon Alley. By that point she knew better than to get attached to some random kid she would probably never meet again. Didn't mean she didn't take professor Malfoy up on her offer to get a drink afterwards, no reason to turn down expensive firewhisky.

 

The Malfoy mansion was huge but empty. With Lucius dead, large parts of the estate sold off, and Draco living in the inner city with his wife and son, it was no wonder Narcissa felt lonely. The whole house technically belonged to her son, but he would not hear of even the implication, that he take it over and move his mom into a smaller house, in fact, he even insisted she keep the master bedroom.

 

Narcissa was a gracious host, and surprisingly supportive of Lavender's lot in life. At first she felt awkward in the spacious sitting room, but after a house elf casually joined their chat, and she got started on her 3rd glass of firewhisky, she began to feel more at ease. Still, she had to pick her jaw off the floor when professor Malfoy suggested she spent the night in one of the many guestrooms. The werewolf tried her best not to shed all over the pristine room, but it had been weeks since she had, had anything resembling a shower, and when she woke up the next morning, she found the white linens desecrated by her lacklustre hygiene.

 

Lav wasn't sure if Mrs. Malfoy made a habit of taking in strays, or if she was special, No matter what, there was certainly worse things to be than Narcissa Malfoy's project. 3 square meals a day, as many baths as she could want, and an elderly pureblood matron helping her write applications. What more could a girl possibly want?


	7. Equals

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, home-stretch, just need to write an epilogue, and it's done.

With Narcissa's aid she found her self a job in what felt like a matter of moments.

 

The few remaining dark wizards still in existence had fled to the darkest corners of the earth, with the aurors hot on their heels. However the auror corps were largely made up of city-dwellers, who would be hard-pressed to tell an acromantula from a ladybug, much less negotiate safe passage through giant lands. That was where Lavender came in, she didn’t get the robes or the badge, but she knew how to make whatever knuckledraggers resided in the forests of Europe behave, and that was a skill in high demand.

 

It was good work, though not something she particularly enjoyed. Sure she fought for a good cause, and the pay left nothing to be desired, and she didn’t even really mind the occupational hazards (of which there were plenty). Lavender Brown plain and simple wasn’t made for being a hunting dog. Life had taught her to track and kill anything from wild rabbits to obstinate vampires. But at the end of the day, skill and passion were 2 very different things, with one not necessarily following the other. Some part of her still wanted to prove her mom right, and show that N.E.W.T.s weren’t solely made for the discomfort of students.

 

When she was not busy wrangling self-righteous veelas or showing centaurs which end to think with, Narcissa let her stay at Malfoy manor. She considered herself the manor’s part-time groundskeeper, not that the house-elves really needed the help. Really she just liked the straightforward work that came with maintaining one of Englands top 50 gardens. Though the house-elves seemed to enjoy her company, apparently they got lonely when they only had themselves for company. Lavender’s habit of walking everywhere in muddy boots, gave them an excuse to follow her around.

 

Narcissa was happy to have another soul living under her roof again, sure their schedules rarely overlapped, at least the house was lived in. When the Malfoy matron did take a weekend off from her Hogwarts duties, Lavender made sure to have the pantry stocked with freshly caught game. The house elves could work wonders with anything, but hunters they would never be, and the mistress of the house did so love hare. Those weekends, she would leave most of the work to the elves, and focus on keeping her host entertained. Narcissa didn’t so much wear her age with grace, as she just seemed to ignore some 20 years of her life. When the 2 had afternoon tea together, the werewolf would often joke about how the Professor seemed to grow younger, to which the professor would chuckle behind her cup, and looking fondly to the mantle piece that held pictures of her family.

 

Occasionally Lavender would point out that she was more than willing to show her gratitude, in any way Narcissa should need, the offer was always genuine, though what mattered more was the compliment of it.

 

She had met Draco and Astoria a couple of times. She wouldn’t claim to understand their marriage, or really anything about them. The couple seemed utterly devoid of passion, wouldn’t even hold hands unless the situation absolutely demanded it. But neither did they seem to harbour any ill will towards each other, they slept in separate beds simply as a matter of preference. Of course Narcissa knew that her son had married Astoria simply as a matter of convenience, for both himself and the Greengrass, but if they wanted Lavender to know, they would tell her themselves. Lavender was eventually, (reluctantly) allowed to meet the young Malfoy heir. Neither of them really made an impression on the other.

 

Contrary to what Mrs. Malfoy claimed whenever she saw Lavender after a “business trip”, the job wasn’t actually killing her. No, having to “distract” a Ukranian Ironbelly (how did Dolohov even get one of those?) was hardly her idea of a good time, and yes, taking a tumble out of a window with her fingers wrapped around Rabastan Lestrange’s neck, did involve a degree of personal endangerment. Though to be honest she didn’t really think about it any more. Surviving by the skin of her teeth had become second nature for her, and even if it wasn’t, having a flustered healer apprentice pull shards of a death eater’s mask and jaw bone out of her knuckles made it utterly worth it.

 

It did seem that Voldemorts followers were either getting smarter, or dying out. She used to be called away to pursue a lead in the Finnish wilds or wherever on an almost monthly basis, spending ¾ of her time covered in mud, and/or snow. But as time went on, her assignments grew further and further apart. The noticeboard in the ministry that used to be wallpapered in wanted posters, now only had a few sporadic, barely noteworthy pictures. A member of the Department of International Magical Cooperation had been forced to resign after using “the M-word” in a drunken rant. There was a strange finality to it all, one Lavender Halftooth Brown wasn’t entirely willing to accept. Werewolf rights was still a pipe-dream, even with Harry bloody Potter himself pushing for it. Why would there be a need for it? Vargia Halftooth kept the horde in order, and most werewolves preferred living in the woods, where the law was their own anyway.

 

Per Narcissa’s suggestion, she got back together with Lucia. Her hair had gotten so long Lav was genuinely worried she might trip over it, her skin was courser with more meat on the bones, but her lips were as soft as ever. What they had lost could never be regained, but they managed to find something new all-together. Lu was less of a loner than before, and though she would die before admitting it, she liked getting to use her old pureblood manners once in a while. Narcissa loved her, Lavender wasn’t sure if she was joking about wanting to adopt Lucia (it seemed a tad late). Not that the Garou would accept the offer, gourmet meals were nice, but sleeping under the stars were better, and there was no sense in thinking she wasn’t too far gone to become domesticated. They spent most of the month apart, only meeting for a few days around the full moon, it wasn’t a lust frenzy any more, instead they both drank their wolfsbane and enjoyed each others company. The date was just a matter of ceremony and nostalgia.


	8. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welp guys and gals, guess that's it for this fic. I actually began writing this story from the epilogue and worked backwards from there, since this was the part that originally inspired everything else. This chapter has gone through quite a lot of revisions, and TBH I'm still not terribly satisfied with it, but i feel like i owed people some closure.

Rose didn’t believe Albus and James for a second. It was far from the first time they had tried to prank her, and she only followed them so she could say she told them so. Not because it was Albus who had started it, James putting him up to those things wouldn’t be news either. How would a dark wizard even get aboard the Hogwarts Express?

 

“See? What did I tell you?” James said, proudly pointing into a compartment magically darkened compartment. Rose was just about to call James out, when she heard a terrifying sound coming from the compartment. She looked inside, and felt her courage sink through the floor. The witch was exactly what Rose thought a death eater would look like. She was wearing a heavy, black, and stained travelling coat (Rose hoped it was dirt, not the blood of innocent halfblood children), along with a pair of expensive, but worn-out leather boots, complete with silver buckles. The witch’s hair was a mess of poorly combed curls, that looked more like the mane of a predator. Her teeth were even slightly jagged, and she had a knife in her belt. Was she Bellatrix LeStrange?

 

Before Rose even realized what was happening, she was running down the corridor, calling for Victoire. The head girl came out of her compartment smiling from ear to ear. “Are the boys teasing you?” She asked in a chirping tone, then seeing the fear plastered on Rose face, her demeanour changed. “What is it Rose?” The Weasley daughter couldn’t speak, she just stood there opening and closing her mouth like a fish. James was braver and explained the problem loud and clear. “There’s a Death Eater on the train!” Victoire was about to scold the boy for the inappropriate joke, but sensed the severity in his voice. Victoire went back into the compartment to fetch her wand.

 

With the head boy in tow, Victoire led a procession down to the mysterious compartment, the rumbling growl could still be heard clearly. The Weasley knew all too well that there was no way short of full body bind charm to keep her nephews and niece from tagging along, so instead she made them promise to run away at the first sign of trouble. She snuck ever closer, preparing for the worst, wand at the ready. Then recognition dawned upon her, she stuck her head into the compartment, and chuckled. “What’s so funny?!” James demanded to know. Victoire placed a finger in front of her lips. “Shhh. You’ll wake her up." Rose and Albus sputtered in unison. “How can you laugh when there’s a dark witch ready to pounce, RIGHT BEHIND THAT DOOR!” To this Victoire just gently placed her hand in front of her mouth the same way her mom used to, and gently laughed. “She’s not a dark witch, her name is L. H. Brown, says so on the trunk. She’s probably our new defence against the dark arts teacher.”

 

“She was also trying to sleep, but I guess that’ll have to wait. You’re smart blondie, ever considered becoming an auror?” The witch stirred, slowly, methodically, scanning the gang of students that looked at her with everything from sheer terror to slight amusement. Professor Brown sent Rose a smile, the young girl imagined was the same as a wolf sent a sheep before it became dinner. The witch frowned, and Rose could feel herself becoming dizzy from fear, when she saw the brutal scar on her throat. “You look like you’ve ran afoul of a dementor, girl.” The tone was calming, with a slightly teasing note, but the information that the witch didn’t want to kill her hadn’t quite gotten through to Rose yet.

 

Professor Brown reached into her trunk, and pulled out a huge bar of chocolate and began breaking off pieces. She handed a particularly large piece to Rose. “Eat, I’ll never live it down if I have a student pass out on me before even arriving at Hogwarts.” Rose slowly came to her senses, and began studying the chocolate in her hand. Apparently not fast enough for the professor. “Don’t worry I haven’t poisoned it. That’s not on the syllabus until after boggarts.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading, seriously, I love each and every one of you <3


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